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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28758375">Numbers Never Lie</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SittingOnACornflake/pseuds/SittingOnACornflake'>SittingOnACornflake</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Beatles (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Gratuitous Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Multi, Slow build but not really?, Smut, established starrison and mclennon, i don'T know what this is anymore, in my laptop this story's title is i'm so sorry, it unrolls from there, there's love and feelings but in the end? just smut bear with me</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:28:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,528</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28758375</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SittingOnACornflake/pseuds/SittingOnACornflake</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul and John have been behaving out of character recently. It awakens something in George that he didn't expect.</p><p>Or, Paul and John make everything they can to hint at a possible foursome until Ringo and George finally understand.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>George Harrison/John Lennon/Paul McCartney/Ringo Starr</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Numbers Never Lie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I got the idea for this during an exam (w h y) and it wouldn't leave me alone so I decided to give it a try. It's very different from what I'm used to write so I'm not confident at all, but now that it's done I'm not going to keep it to myself.</p><p>The title comes from The Complete Banker by The Divine Comedy. It's a great song btw, although I gave these lyrics an utterly different meaning.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Paul's finger in John's mouth.</p><p> </p><p>That’s the first thing George sees when he lifts his head from his guitar, bewildered at the sudden silence in the studio. Paul and John had been arguing for minutes now. George reckoned it was about some harmonies, but he hadn’t paid that much attention; quickly letting the discussion become a background noise. He’d picked a tune and toyed with it for a bit. That’s usually what he does when his two friends bicker like the old couple they are.</p><p> </p><p>Truly, when he lifted his head, he was expecting one of them to have stormed out, or both, or to find a dead body. Or to find them snogging, at a pinch.</p><p> </p><p>But not <em>that</em>. Certainly not that.</p><p> </p><p>Neither of them are moving. Well, that’s not entirely true.  John's lips are closed around Paul’s index and he's visibly sucking on it. Paul's eyes are fixed on John and his Adam apple moves when he swallows with difficulty.</p><p> </p><p>George remains frozen before taking a look around the room. That’s when he realises Ringo isn’t there; t’s only the three of them in here.</p><p> </p><p>He curses himself silently. Why, <em>why</em> is he still here? How long have his two bandmates been going at it, doing something so <em>obviously </em>sexual – because it is, George can't be wrong, he can see Paul and John's rosy cheeks from his corner of the room. That blush hasn’t come just from the heat of the argument. George is still dwelling on the unlikeliness of the situation when John’s eyes meet his. Gently, his movements agonizingly slow, he puts his hand on Paul’s wrist and tugs at his cuff. Paul pulls his finger out of John’s mouth. George’s mind takes in the wet sound it makes against his will.</p><p> </p><p>“Better stop now, Macca.” John says with a voice – <em>what the fuck is that voice. </em>“Someone isn’t ready to see that yet.”</p><p> </p><p>Paul turns towards George, beaming at him without any embarrassment. His lifted eyebrows mean <em>oh, so you were there</em> but his smile says something a bit different. George doesn’t really know what to make of it, so he ignores the whole matter altogether.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want me to leave the room?” he asks, actually surprised at how casual his own tone is.</p><p> </p><p>He wishes they’d tell him to. What’s been happening has been enough already. He needs a good excuse to give them some privacy. The fact that he’s got a good eyesight doesn’t make things better either. If that’s not a stiffy in Paul’s trousers, he doesn’t know his friend. But, much to his surprise – and disappointment, of course –, they shake they heads in unison.</p><p> </p><p>“No need. Let’s find Ringo and get done with this song,” Paul says.</p><p> </p><p>George nods sharply. Really, there was something funny about this whole scene – something that makes his stomach churn and his eyebrows frown. He shakes his head and gets up, seizing the opportunity they’ve given him to leave the room. He’ll get Ringo and he’ll forget everything he saw. Preferably forever.</p><p> </p><p>It’s forgetting the people involved, though. He’s about to close the door behind him – just in case they feel like doing <em>stuff</em> while he’s gone – when John quips, “don’t watch us from the control room, son!”</p><p> </p><p>George slams the door close.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What is John playing at with his hints? What do these hints even hint at?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>George doesn’t care about the answer. He <em>doesn’t</em>.</p><p> </p><p>That’s what he decides late at night as he’s lying wide awake. Ringo snores lightly next to him. George can see his sleeping form in the dark. He should be sleeping too, and yet he can’t. That’s the first time since he and the drummer started dating that having Ringo in his bed isn’t enough to allow him to sleep. Something he’s bugging him.</p><p> </p><p>He <em>doesn’t care</em>, though. He sees Paul and John making out daily. It’s when they don’t that he gets concerned. It never, <em>ever</em> bothered him before, and even so? What he saw, whatever it was, wasn’t making out. It wasn’t one of these pecks they give the other to thank them for the coffee or the bit of lyrics they came up with. It wasn’t one of those endless snogs they share when they wrap up a song, or a day’s work, or just feel like it. It wasn’t that innocent, it was–</p><p> </p><p>In any case, George gathers he’s lucky his two friends didn’t begin to date while they were all in Hamburg. <em>That </em>would have been unbearable, hearing and seeing and <em>smelling</em> the other two having sex in the same room as him every goddamn day, and mere inches from him at that. Yes, George is lucky. Witnessing McLennon happen when he was seventeen would have been enough to transform him into a confused tomato for the rest of his life.</p><p> </p><p><em>Oh.</em> That’s what’s been bugging him. Not the fact that he didn’t watch them have full sex, hell no. But when he saw Paul’s finger being sucked in John’s mouth, and when he stared a bit – there’s no point denying it – well. He didn’t blush.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t blush and the thought that he didn’t find what he saw deeply embarrassing is making him blush now, while he’s in his bed with no one to see that he’s a human being <em>with moral sense and everything</em>.</p><p> </p><p><em>Let’s forget it</em>, he decides. John can think he likes to watch or whatever if he wants to, George doesn’t mind. He just wants to forget and to fall sleep.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, even though it takes him a bit more time than he intended, he manages to achieve both.</p><p> </p><p>The … moment doesn’t come back to his mind until a month later. They’re in the studio again, . This time, it’s sunny outside and Ringo is here.</p><p> </p><p>As Paul and John are whispering between themselves – a new song might be on the way – George sets his guitar aside and joins Ringo behind his drums. He quickly steals a kiss from him before also taking his drumsticks and toying with the cymbals.</p><p> </p><p>“What for?” Ringo chuckles.</p><p> </p><p>“The kiss is because I love you. As for the rest … I’m hungry?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ringing the bell so we’ll line up and get some food?”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p> </p><p>Ringo takes his drumsticks back and plays an upbeat thing that could very well make all London gather around if they could only hear it.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, cute,” he then says when he stops playing.</p><p> </p><p>George follows his gaze. His stomach drops. Paul and John are not talking anymore; they’re not arguing either. They’re kissing.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow it doesn’t feel the same – same normally being that he doesn’t give a damn. There’s definitely something weird going on with George. He just doesn’t know what.</p><p> </p><p>“You okay?” Ringo asks when George doesn’t answer.</p><p> </p><p>George nods. He turns his attention back to his boyfriend and smiles faintly. “I’ve been thinking. Do you want us to go to Liverpool this weekend?”</p><p> </p><p>Ringo’s eyes lit up. It makes George feel bad. Of course, they’ve talked about doing just that a few days ago without settling anything – and truly, it wouldn’t have crossed his mind if he hadn’t racked his brains in search of a harmless subject.</p><p> </p><p>They agree on their little trip and discuss some details. George speaks as enthusiastically as he can, and he <em>is</em>, but he can’t help glancing at Paul and John now and then. He’s merely <em>checking on them</em> – or not. They’re kissing, they’re taking forever. <em>Why are they doing this? </em>They hadn’t snogged so thoroughly in public for a long, long while, but George is positive it’s the first he feels so–</p><p> </p><p>He freezes. He’s seen something from the corner of his eyes, something he might have missed if he hadn’t been so shamefully focused. He turns his head sharply, staring once more.</p><p> </p><p>Yes. He’s right. Paul has his forefinger on John’s lower lip, gently pressing on the skin but not forcing it inside his mouth. He’s merely leaving it there, their eyes locked. John’s tongue comes out unexpectedly and he <em>licks it</em>, he licks Paul’s finger as if it were nothing.</p><p> </p><p>George stands up abruptly. “I’ll be back,” he throws at them.</p><p> </p><p>He can tell Ringo’s gaze is following him as he makes his way out as quickly as possible, but he doesn’t have any time for further or better explanations. He can’t really give him the only explanation he has – no.</p><p> </p><p>He’s hard.</p><p> </p><p>That was it, the thing he couldn’t analyse.</p><p> </p><p>Seeing John and Paul kiss and do that <em>thing</em> turns him on.</p><p> </p><p>He barricades himself in the toilets, letting out a sigh once he’s made sure no one is in there. He looks back at his hard-on. It’s not that prominent right now, but still. There’s no way he’s risking being seen like that.</p><p> </p><p>“This is really, really silly of you,” he whispers at his dick. “Get a hold of yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>Well, he might take that advice and do just that. He can’t walk out of the toilets sporting an erection, can he?</p><p> </p><p>He’s reaching into his pants when the door opens.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s only me,” Ringo says, closing the door behind him.</p><p> </p><p>“You scared me,” George lets out. His hands drop to his sides and he turns around. Maybe Ringo won’t notice.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you standing in the middle of–” Ringo trails off as looks down.</p><p> </p><p>George blushes instantly this time.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s alright, you know. Is that–” Ringo takes a step forward, “– is that for me?”</p><p> </p><p>George should say yes.</p><p> </p><p>After all, he’s in love with Ringo. They’ve been together for three years and George can’t imagine his life without him. They had sex just yesterday, and it was amazing – it always is.</p><p> </p><p>But because he loves Ringo so much, he can’t lie to him about something that seems so important, even if it means losing him.</p><p> </p><p>“I …”</p><p> </p><p>He plants his feet steadier on the ground; shakes his head slowly. “I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Ringo doesn’t say anything. George briefly gets lost in his eyes. He knows them so well but is somehow unable to decipher them right now. He can’t even say whether Ringo is mad, <em>really </em>mad, or Mad. Words spill out of his mouth as he begins to panic.</p><p> </p><p>“I still love you. I don’t know why I– it’s just that recently– well. Seeing Paul and John like this turned me on, but it doesn’t have to mean anything, I wouldn’t ever act on–”</p><p> </p><p>Ringo takes his hand. “It’s okay,” he says, his voice sweeter than ever.</p><p> </p><p>“I promise–” George rambles on before realising what his boyfriend said. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>Ringo guides his hand downwards and George lets him, wondering why he’s doing that until he doesn’t. With a hand on Ringo’s crotch, he can definitely feel it. How did he not notice earlier?</p><p> </p><p>“It turned me on too,” Ringo says quietly. “You don’t have to feel bad.”</p><p> </p><p>George thinks about it for a moment before nodding. He won’t drop the matter now, he needs to know. It’s just them, after all. Just the two of them next to a row of empty loos.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you … Is it just them, or do you get turned on by more people than that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Ringo says. “I mean, it’s just them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not Paul, and then John, but them together,” George tries.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>George smiles. If Ringo feels the same, it’s okay. They can fantasize about their bandmates together and share it like they would any kink.</p><p> </p><p>With that thought in mind, he comes closer to Ringo, stopping just before their mouths touch.</p><p> </p><p>“This,” he whispers as he puts his palm back against the other’s crotch, “is Paul touching you.”</p><p> </p><p>His other hand makes it way until he’s able to squeeze Ringo’s arse. “That’s John,” he says in between kisses.</p><p> </p><p>Ringo responds eagerly to the kiss. They stumble towards one of the loos, not disconnecting their mouths for even a second.</p><p> </p><p>They’re both enjoying it, and anyway George has long ago made his the idea that what Paul and John <em>don’t</em> <em>know</em> can’t hurt them.</p><p> </p><p>Obviously, what they’ve just done is visible on their faces when they return to the studio twenty minutes later. Despite all their efforts, Ringo’s hair is still tousled; George’s shirt sticks awkwardly out of his pants – he sees it a minute too late. Paul gives them his best judging look and John makes a joke about people enjoying themselves without thinking of the others. It’s absolutely bearable, especially when Ringo and he exchange a knowing smile.</p><p> </p><p>They don’t really talk about it during the following days – about what happened in the toilets and about what it precisely means. Their minds are full of many other things, mainly because they go to Liverpool before going on a new tour almost immediately afterwards. Then they’re either playing music in front of frantic crowds or traveling. Still, George and Ringo frequently share little glances when something <em>interesting</em> happens. When Paul and John play oh-so close to one another and visibly forget about everyone else, George will turn to Ringo and meet his blue eyes already fixed on him, something akin to desire visible in them. When Paul and John share these little pecks in the privacy of their shared hotel room, Ringo and George kiss too. Why not? And when, on a dreary night after a very productive music session, John pushes Paul against the wall and seems ready to thoroughly make out with him, or even go further than that–</p><p> </p><p>Well, that day, there’s a problem.</p><p> </p><p>Seeing they bandmates together is a turn-on to George. It’s a turn-on to Ringo. It’s alright. They’ve agreed on it. But if John and Paul are doing all these things while George is side to side with them, his elbow literally touching Paul’s … No. It’s a bit <em>too</em> arousing for his taste. It’s gonna <em>show.</em></p><p> </p><p>He clutches his guitar as he watches them, knowing he should look away but unable to. It’s just too beautiful, the way John is fucking his tongue into Paul’s and the way Paul is gripping at his hair. They’re pressed against one another, not leaving the tiniest space between their bodies.</p><p> </p><p><em>Oh, to be a little insect and squeeze himself between them. Or better, to be John’s shirt, warm from his skin, grazing onto Paul’s light stubble – </em>what is George even thinking?</p><p> </p><p>John shifts his hips, pushes one of his legs between Paul’s. George sees it. George sees it and he loves it, loves the mere idea of what it must feel like, but isn’t this going too far? He should remind them they’re not alone. He’s here; Ringo’s there too. They shouldn’t. They should show some consideration – or maybe they expect the other couple to tiptoe out of the room and let them fuck all they like? That wouldn’t be new. <em>Nothing</em>, George acknowledges with something akin to regret, <em>nothing exists for Paul and John when they’re lost in each other</em>.</p><p> </p><p>It’s time to wake them up. John’s breath is short, Paul elbows George without even realising it as he moves his arm up and down John’s side. George is <em>so</em> close to them, and he can feel himself hardening in his pants. He can hear every tiny noise they make, every rustling of clothes, every breath they take as they’re attacking each other’s mouth. George opens his own mouth to tell them to cut it out when he’s stopped by a moan.</p><p> </p><p>He startles, surprised. He was so sure he had everything under control, he can’t have moaned, as much as he would like too. Or … has he?</p><p> </p><p>Paul and John stop and turn their heads, not towards George but towards Ringo, on the other side of the room.</p><p> </p><p>He’s the one who has moaned.</p><p> </p><p>Ringo is looking at George, panic showing on his face. George looks back at him, not even binking. His mind remains blank.</p><p> </p><p>“What are looking at?” he says, playing surprise with a firmer tone than George would have thought. “I hit my toe.”</p><p> </p><p>Paul giggles. “Does he think we're stupid?” he asks John.</p><p> </p><p>George watches them helplessly as John snickers. “Rings, you're gonna tell me <em>this</em> does nothing to you?”</p><p> </p><p>Paul and John turn away from George, fully facing Ringo instead. George can only see their backs now, but he still has a fair idea of what is happening. <em>John’s</em> <em>hand</em>. John's hand is on Paul's crotch.</p><p> </p><p>George bites on his lower lip to refrain from moaning. Ringo deserves praise because he doesn’t even do that and he's got the scene unfolding right before his eyes. <em>But</em> <em>then</em>, George thinks, <em>he must be panicking a bit</em>. Dreading the eternal and obnoxious teasing that he'll receive from their bandmates ever after.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing,” Ringo says, having apparently figured that the less words he utters the less chances he has to be contradicted.</p><p> </p><p>Weirdly enough, it seems to infuriate the two others.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on,” John almost shouts as Paul sighs loudly and lets his back rest against the wall with a thump, “what is it gonna take for you two to admit it? Does Paulie here have to blow me right in front of your eyes?”</p><p> </p><p>If George’s mind had gone bland before, he doesn’t know what kind of void it has turned into now.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>What?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Paul sighs again, but it's good-humoured this time. “Bold of you to assume <em>you</em> wouldn’t be the one on your knees,” he tells John.</p><p> </p><p>He then adds, his eyes flying between Ringo and George, “seriously though. We've been dropping hints at you both forever. Aren't you interested?”</p><p> </p><p>George stares at him in disbelief. That’s all he can do. There they are, the two of them, the object of his fantasies for quite some time now, the object of <em>Ringo's</em> fantasies too, and they're not only acknowledging it, they're inviting them to act on it.</p><p> </p><p>Is it a joke? George's brain is racing, but no, even John wouldn’t go that far. Not with something that could put the band at risk. So ... it has to be real.</p><p> </p><p>Just like every day of his life, Ringo says exactly what he thinks.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve been dropping hints,” he repeats with a questioning tone.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course. What do you think <em>this</em> was?” Paul says.</p><p> </p><p>“To <em>both </em>of us?” Ringo asks. “Not just to George?”</p><p> </p><p>“To you and to George,” Paul nods obligingly. “Interested?”</p><p> </p><p>George looks at Ringo. Ringo looks at George. Even with their two bandmates between them, they manage to speak with their eyes. George only has to glance at these blue eyes to see everything that must also show in his own. <em>Yes. We'll take what they want to give. Anything. It's time to put an end to this fascination</em>. The beginning of a smile appears on Ringo's lips. George grins back at him before addressing himself to Paul and George. “We are.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, thank God,” John growls.</p><p> </p><p>In less than a second, he's left Paul’s side and joined Ringo. The drummer is still standing in the middle of the room, looking a bit out of place there. He could pass for a statue if his chest wasn’t heaving so rapidly. He doesn’t move, even when John’s face comes close up to his and when he cups his jaw in his hand. It’s unprecedented; it makes something flutter in George’s stomach. John tilts up Ringo’s chin. George lets out a relieved sigh when their lips finally touch.</p><p> </p><p>For so long he’s been the one kissing Ringo. For so long he’s been the one to look down into those eyes and to slightly lean down to kiss those lips.</p><p> </p><p>He’s missed out on something. Ringo looks beautiful when he’s being kissed, and it’s a different kind of beautiful from the beauty George catches a glimpse of once in a while, when he and Ringo try to catch their breaths. Right now, Ringo looks beautiful and George is fully able to appreciate it from another point of view. John is wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt and George is taken aback by how small Ringo looks in his arms. Just as if the sight wasn’t entrancing enough, Ringo chooses that moment to finally unfreeze and to throw his arms around John’s shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>George could stare for hours. And he would, if not for the hand tugging at his sleeve.</p><p> </p><p>It’s Paul. George had forgotten about him, but he wonders how <em>that </em>could be as soon as his eyes land on him again. His friend already looks debauched with his hair askew and his mouth slightly open, tongue poking out just enough to wet his lips. It reminds George of how Paul was kissing John just moments ago. His stomach drops when he realises it’s his turn now.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay with this?” Paul asks.</p><p> </p><p>George looks up from the man’s lips, meeting his eyes. Paul has changed over the years. They’ve grown together, become adults together, but his eyes are still the same. These are still the eyes of the boy who used to ride the bus with him. The boy on whom he had the tiniest little crush at the time. The boy who never saw him as anything more than a friend and a talented guitarist; the boy who then had gotten a crush on an older guy called <em>John, George, his name’s John Lennon</em>. George hadn’t said anything about his own feelings; they hadn’t been that strong anyway. Then he’d forgotten everything about it. He wasn’t <em>destined</em> to be with Paul but with Ringo; he liked to think of it as a love that’d last forever.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe, though, Paul and he are destined to share a moment together, just for now. George feels he can do that – take John’s place for a few minutes, trap Paul between himself and the wall just like the other did. He looks back down at Paul’s lips. The man is chewing on his lower lip, still waiting for his answer.</p><p> </p><p>Instead of talking, George decides to act. He takes a step forward and stops thinking altogether.</p><p> </p><p>Next thing he knows, they’re not standing anymore. Paul is sitting in the armchair and he’s sitting in Paul’s lap.</p><p> </p><p>“Take your shirt off,” Paul mumbles against his neck.</p><p> </p><p>It’s too complicated a task for George’s clumsy fingers. He’s trying to, really trying, but it’s hard to undo tiny shirt buttons when someone is nipping at the soft skin of <em>that </em>spot right below your ear. Paul sucks a hickey right there and George’s lets out a shaky breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Do that yourself,” he pants.</p><p> </p><p>He’s never felt more grateful than when Paul complies, undoing his shirt easily without having to lean away from him. He does the same for his own shirt. George silently throws both of those away, not caring where they land.</p><p> </p><p>A few moments later – George couldn’t say how much time has passed – Paul kisses his way back up to his mouth before finally leaning away slightly. He lifts George’s hair to have a better view of his work.</p><p> </p><p>“Looks good?” George grins.</p><p> </p><p>Paul nods. “I like your chest too,” he says.</p><p> </p><p>His hands come up to George’s now bare torso, making him shudder. He pinches a nipple and grins when a little moan escapes George’s lips. The roles switch when George does exactly the same to him. Paul’s moan is much louder than his. It fills George with pride. He’s about to coax more of these sounds out of Paul when his friend’s eyes widen, fixed on something George can’t see.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh God,” he says. “Look at them.”</p><p> </p><p>George shifts in Paul’s lap and looks.</p><p> </p><p>Here they are. John and Ringo, still where George saw them for the last time but with much less clothes and much more skin on display. They’re naked except for their underwear. One of Ringo’s hands has made its way down John’s briefs. That sight could easily make George fall on the ground if Paul’s hands weren’t still on him. He turns back to face his friend, a playful smile on his lips.</p><p> </p><p>“They’re having too much fun on their own,” he says.</p><p> </p><p>Paul’s eyes glint as he nods. “We need them in a bed.”</p><p> </p><p>George knows Paul had a great idea as soon as the four of them collapse on the bed.</p><p> </p><p>“Numbers never lie,” he mumbles.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Paul asks, casually straddling John’s chest, sitting there as if they’re having tea.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing. Four is a great number.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not as if this bed could host more people than that,” John pipes up from under Paul.</p><p> </p><p>He’s right, of course – but the proximity feels great. The light brush of skin against skin every time one of them moves, squirms or even breathes – George can’t get enough of it. He’ll think about what it means later.</p><p> </p><p>“So,” John goes on. “Ringo?”</p><p> </p><p>Three heads turn towards the drummer who is sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes?” he asks tentatively.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes. Ringo,” George says, understanding what John means. He shares a brief smile with the guitarist before devoting all his attention to Ringo. “You like it?” he asks him in a whisper, gently kissing him.</p><p> </p><p>Ringo nods, making their noses bump. George reaches for his boyfriend’s briefs, suddenly realising he’s aching to free him from them – and maybe his own on the way.</p><p> </p><p>It's amazing how fast George's fingers can act when Paul is <em>not</em> distracting him. They're both naked within seconds.</p><p> </p><p>“So, Ringo. What do you want?” John asks, his eyes fixed on the drummer.</p><p> </p><p>George smiles when he notices John's lustful gaze. <em>I know Ringo's wonderful. He's himself</em>, he thinks giddily.</p><p> </p><p>Ringo, on the other hand, hasn’t seen it. He's looking away.</p><p> </p><p>“And I can ask anything?” he finally says.</p><p> </p><p>Paul's “Sure” is like honey in George’s throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Then undress. It's unfair if only two of us are naked.”</p><p> </p><p>“Good start,” John nods, squirming under Paul to get out of his briefs. When Paul is done struggling with his own jeans, they both stare back at Ringo.</p><p> </p><p>“What now?”</p><p> </p><p>Ringo answers immediately. “Now kiss.”</p><p> </p><p>John seems about to protest but Paul muffles every possible complain by pressing him back against the mattress and kissing him.</p><p> </p><p>It's dirty, the way they kiss. It's obvious they're putting on a show for them. George only manages to look away for a split second, just the time it takes him to share a look with Ringo. Just checking. <em>You good? Yeah, me too. Too fucking good.</em> Then his eyes are back on the mess happening in front of him; Paul crouched over John, hands gripping onto his hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Paul,” Ringo says after some time. “Could you ...”</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t end his sentence, but it seems Paul had been thinking about it too. His left hand settles near John's lips, index gently prying his mouth open.</p><p> </p><p>George knows he lets out a shaky breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. It begins all over again; that ballet between John’s tongue and Paul’s finger. The part of George's mind that is still working – a very small part – briefly wonders who out of the four of them is enjoying this more. John and Paul's eyes are lost in each other. George knows he's so hard it aches, although he's not doing anything but watch, and he’s positive Ringo has reached for his own cock at some point, judging from his shaky intakes of breath.</p><p> </p><p>“I knew this would be the thing that would make you two fall for us,” Paul says after a while. “But you know, I can do better.”</p><p> </p><p>John and he silently end whatever conversation their eyes had been having. They nod and Paul craws away from John, tapping on George's arm. “Scoot over. I'm busy.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Busy, yeah,</em> George thinks feverishly. Paul wastes no time in useless words, he merely swats Ringo's hand away, makes him lie down on the bed and takes him in his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“I– Paul– you–”</p><p> </p><p>Ringo falls silent, apparently resigned to not being able to formulate a full sentence. His eyes close and his mouth opens slightly as Paul begins to bob up and down his length.</p><p> </p><p>George is been so engrossed in what he’s looking at – <em>again </em>– that he doesn’t remember John until the man whispers right in his ear. “What about you?”</p><p> </p><p>The mere tone he used is enough to make George shudder. He's heard that tone before, but he'd never thought it'd be directed towards him. He's <em>fantasised </em>about it with Ringo; but they hadn’t considered, even in their wildest scenarios, that this could happen for real.</p><p> </p><p>“Say, what do you want?” John says before biting his earlobe.</p><p> </p><p>George shakes his head to regain some ability to think. He turns his head towards the other guitarist, quickly eyeing him up and down – maybe letting his gaze linger <em>down</em> a bit longer than <em>up</em>. There are a lot of things he'd love to do with him. Right, now, though ... He glances back at the other side of the bed. Paul's right hand now rests on Ringo's thigh, keeping him from thrusting. His thumb draws soothing little patterns on the skin.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure you'll like it,” George confesses, looking back at John.</p><p> </p><p>John’s eyes have never been so dark and George considers abandoning his idea altogether.</p><p> </p><p>Much to his surprise – he keeps being surprised today – John snorts before giving him a true smile.</p><p> </p><p>“You want to <em>watch them</em>. That's very voyeur of you,” he smirks. “But then again, we're much more alike than you think, Harrison. I don't wanna miss the show either.”</p><p> </p><p>John turns his head towards the other couple for a brief second before speaking again. “As long as, let's say, you sit there.”</p><p> </p><p>He scoots away and settles against the headboard before gesturing at George, patting his things enthusiastically. The gentle slaps on the skin are innocent but still make George wonder how long he’ll last. Especially when John’s right hand finds his crotch as soon as he’s settled between his legs.</p><p> </p><p>George relaxes immediately, letting his head fall back against John's shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“If you want to watch only, I can stop though,” John offers.</p><p> </p><p>George whimpers, both because of the possibility that this might stop and because of that voice, <em>that voice again</em>, right in his ear. “Don’t you dare,” he finally says, trying to sound menacing and failing miserably.</p><p> </p><p>John chuckles and squeezes his cock. “Alright Georgie. I won't.”</p><p> </p><p>George's eyes flutter close from pleasure but he forces them to stay open. He won't miss more of the sight that are Ringo and Paul at the moment.</p><p> </p><p>Little words of praise leave Ringo's mouth regularly. Entranced, George watches as his jewelled hand makes its way to Paul's hair, apparently not to keep him into place but just to touch him. Paul moves to suck at the tip of his cock and lifts his eyes, making eye contact with George. He winks at him before dedicating all his attention to Ringo again.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s it babe,” John whisper-moans in George's ear, “you’re the best.”</p><p> </p><p>At this point, George doesn’t know who John is talking to – is he encouraging Paul, praising George or merely complimenting himself? George doesn’t dwell on it. John's hand sliding up and down his length, sometimes fiddling with his balls in the process, feels way to nice and he knows he's not going to last much longer. All the previous teasing has been going on for too long.</p><p> </p><p>“Paul, I'm gonna ... soon,” Ringo moans as if their brains were connected – although, he, too, has many reasons to be on the brink, one of them being that he has Paul’s plump limps around him.</p><p> </p><p>These lips don't stop; the work faster if anything. John's hand on George also increases its pace, mirroring Paul’s movements.</p><p> </p><p>“You– aah!”</p><p> </p><p>Ringo cries out as he comes in Paul’s mouth. Paul holds him still with both hands as he rides him through it.</p><p> </p><p>“George. Come,” John orders him.</p><p> </p><p>George couldn’t tell what brings him over the edge. Between John's command, the particularly masterful stroke he gives his cock and Ringo's sinful panting, not to mention Paul's eyes that look up at him, all right at the same moment – it's too much. He spills all over John's hand.</p><p> </p><p>“There you go. Good lad,” John says, so softly that George isn’t sure he's made it up when his mind finally comes back to reality.</p><p> </p><p>“That was ... something,” Ringo says next to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Agreed,” George croaks out.</p><p> </p><p>That's all he can manage for now, slumped against John and feeling like he has no bone left in his body.</p><p> </p><p>Paul beams, his eyes traveling between them both. “Thank you. When you've recovered, I’d be curious about what you can do too.”</p><p> </p><p>He gestures towards his own lap. John emphasizes his agreement by shifting against George's back. How could he not feel that before, poking him in the back? It's the only thing that could make George move right now – do something to them. <em>My turn now</em>, he thinks.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll see if I can do something for you, Lennon.”</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t have to see him to know John is smiling. He's smiling too.</p><p> </p><p>In fact, they're all smiling. They're all together in that bed, the four of them, and they'll make the best of it. Numbers never lie.</p>
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